


Echoes

by orphan_account



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Band, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempt at Humor, Bad Flirting, Band Fic, Bar, M/M, Papa is a solo artist, Song Lyrics, pink floyd - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9672632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Papa visits a bar often, mainly to just flirt with that cute bartender whom refers to himself as, "Omega,"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I have been working on for the past few months to perfect, I'm in total love!! Another thing; the title is, you guessed it, a Pink Floyd song. I recommend it for this or the songs playing in the fic!  
> I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do!~

_“Money, get away. Get a good job with more pay and you're okay,”_

The semi-crowded bar was filled with sounds of people laughing, talking and generally having a good time. Their ecstatic voices overlayed the sound of Pink Floyd’s catchy tune _Money_ that currently blared through the speakers of the only jukebox in the house. Between breaks in the loud voices, Papa Emeritus the third could hear the smooth tune and would sing along, nailing the chorus and such with his wonderful voice. Even without the effects that he was rendered through in recording booths at the studio, his vocals were purely magnificant. A true talent. 

“ _M_ _oney, it's a hit. Don't give me that do goody good bullshit,”_

His singing was something of utmost entertainment and admiration to the man standing behind the bar, pouring him a tad more whiskey when he held his glass out with a gloved hand.

That dear bartender, whom had requested to being called Omega as his tag suggested, was a handsome piece of work, Emeritus had come to realize. Such a strange surname, and he wondered how he'd earned it.

“ _Money, so they say, is the root of all evil today. But if you ask for a rise it's no surprise that they're giving none away,”_

The tall man giggled as he listened to Papa drunkenly sing along to the song. He'd been quite the fan of Pink Floyd, and hearing him sing one of their tracks made his heart throb questioningly. Did he merely enjoy the sound of his voice, or was there something more to it? That, he surely did not know as he watched the drunken man spill a bit of the sweet alcohol down his arm, disappearing into the rolled up sleeve of his white button up. His black jacket had been stripped and was currently draped across the back of the bar stool he was perched upon. Omega raised his eyebrows at the sight, hearing the song unfortunately come to an end. Fading into the sounds of a Deep Purple tune that the next customer had spent a quarter on.

Emeritus looked down, watching the bronze liquid stain the fabric. It put a pause to his merrymaking. He pursed his lips and knit his brow together. “Ah, fanculo. Look at me, paying more attention to the song than my own drink. Did not even realize I was holding it until now.” Omega chuckled at his words, his deep blue eyes squinting into humorful crescent moons. “Hold on, Em. I have a towel you can use.” He held out the dry washrag that had been previously slung over his shoulder to the man. Papa went to take the cloth, admiring the wide rings on each of Omega’s ring fingers. He'd always worn those as far as Papa could remember.

He cleaned himself up and handed the rag back before hastily downing the rest of his drink. Leaning forward on the counter, he folded his arms under his chest. He gave Omega a quizzical look before hiccoughing. “Honestly...I have grown quite hungry in the past hour. You would not mind if I ordered something to eat, would you?”

Omega shook his head, smiling brightly at the man across from him as he tossed the now whiskey-saturated washcloth in a bucket under the bar. Leaning across the counter, Omega realized just how lithe of a body the smaller man had, as his button up was a bit of a tighter fit than the loose jacket he'd worn. “I don't mind at all. Service is a little slow since it's game day and most people just want a bottle of beer right now. Anything in particular you fancy?” he asked sweetly, propping his head on a hand as he watched the funny movements of the black-haired man. Omega realized just how much Papa gesticulated his hands as he spoke. It grew increasingly erratic with each drink he sucked down.

Papa tapped his chin in thought before snapping his fingers in delight. “Ah! You have those...carnitas, right? On the corn tortillas? That sounds so _divine_ right now.” he inquired, his mismatched eyes shimmering. Omega had known Papa Emeritus for some years now due to his trips to the bar, and had always wondered why he covered the other matching sparkling green eye with a white contact. Maybe part of the costume, but he had always wanted to see both those beauties without the lense. “Of course. Lime on the side?” he turned, grabbing an unopened bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind him to top up Emeritus’ drink. The man snapped his fingers again, throwing Omega a set of fingerguns his way.

“Oh yes. Do take as much time as you need, darling Omega. I'm going to invest some time in the jukebox for a moment.” He stood up, wobbling on his feet. Omega turned in time, a hand shooting out to find his shoulder and steadying Papa. The drunken singer merely chuckled, sauntering off but not before throwing, “Ahh, you are so good to me,” over his shoulder. Leaving the cute bartender flustered and wide-eyed at the counter.

* * *

 

Papa had thumbed a quarter into the machine, pressing the arrow buttons to flick through the pages of songs available. He'd known Omega had taken a liking to Pink Floyd it seemed, and decided to find a song he knew that he could sing once again. Call him cheesy, but maybe by some stroke of luck, he could hint to the other man that he'd taken quite the liking to him. He didn't want to say crush, but that was basically it and there was really no other way for him to put it.

A grin and a pleased “ahhh!” found his lips when he located _Learning to Fly_ and selected it, turning briskly and making his way back to his designated seat at the bar counter. Omega had not yet returned, which was quite the bummer for dear Papa. Though, he'd hoped somehow the smooth notes would drift into the kitchen. He closed his eyes when he heard that familiar intro. He'd always enjoyed this track.

He jumped slightly in surprise when he heard the familiar sound of a plate being set in front of him, his eyes moving to meet Omega’s as he stood behind the counter. Papa still could not get over how the beautiful orbs transfixed him with one stare. A calming shade, one that reflected warm humor and a touch of gentleness. The deeo colour was that of lapis lazuli, or frost, or maybe even the ocean. He could think of many ways to describe those one-of-a-kind eyes, but knew this wasn't the time.

“ _In_ _to the distance, a ribbon of black, stretched to the point of no turning back,”_

Papa’s own eyes squinted before allowing a grin to spread across his face, stretching a hand out to pull the plate towards himself. He winked at the taller man as he picked up one of the lime wedges with careful fingers. “Why thank you, dollface.” He chuckled, squeezing the lime over the contents of the two tortillas on the plate.

“ _A fatal attraction holding me fast, how can I escape this irresistible grasp?”_

Omega felt his heart skip a beat and he giggled, looking down at his hands as they folded on the surface of the bar. He tried to hide the fact that there was a fine dusting of pink across his usually pale cheeks. He didn't want the drunk man to notice and crack a cheeky joke or two his way. Instead, he kept his head lowered until he felt his face cool back down.

_“Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies, tongue tied and twisted just an earth bound misfit, I,”_

He looked back up, watching Papa struggle to hold the tortilla together as he took a rather large bite. Omega laughed, reaching a hand out to seal the back end of the taco. The pork, cilantro, and onion had begun to cascade out in a river. “Try using _both_ of your hands for that,” he chuckled. Papa merely laughed it off before taking a bite. His eyes lit up, sparkling happily as he chewed. “My dear, darling Omega! This is wondrous!”  he exclaimed through a mouthful, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

‘What a cutie,’ was Omega’s only thought as the man happily chomped away at his food, singing along to the current tune between each bite he took. The taller man had recognized the song when he'd brought the plate out, and began to softly sing along as well as he began to clean the counter down with a new washcloth. He glanced at the watch upon his wrist after a moment, frowning momentarily when he realized the time. Close to one in the morning, his shift was about to end and he would have to close up.

“ _Ice is forming on the tips of my wings, unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything,”_

He stopped, sighing and glancing up at Papa as he finished his food. The raven-haired man had placed an unused lime wedge between his lips, sucking contentedly on the sour fruit before noticing Omega. He smiled, flashing him the green outside skin of the lime rather than his teeth. Omega couldn't help but laugh, then feel a slight twinge of sadness. He didn't work for the next two days, therefore wouldn't get to share the company of the amusing little singer. He had to admit, he might have had a thing for him. Though, he dare not say anything about it as Emeritus was obviously drunk and didn't know what he'd try to do. Whether that be kiss him or deck him. It made his heart ache but he smiled and dealt with it.

“Wow, Papa,” he chortled, taking the plate as Emeritus removed the lime from his mouth to toss it onto a napkin.

“Sorry, I just...I really love those.” Emeritus says, crossing his arms on the counter and pressing his head down into them, curiously watching Omega place the plate on a cart behind him. It was filled with empty cups and other plates.

“Why are you apologizing? It was cute. Trust me.” he said, turning and flashing a smile.

_“A soul in tension that’s learning to fly, condition grounded but determined to try,”_

Papa snorted, tugging his coat on. “Mmh. I know your shift is about to end, by that way, um..” he paused, taking a breath before saying what he'd wanted to for the past few weeks whenever the time came to an unfortunate end. “Would you...mind accompanying me back home? I myself know that I am _quite_ drunk and I would prefer to sleep in a bed rather than on my doorstep.”

_“Can't keep my eyes to the circling sky, tongue tied and twisted just an earthbound misfit, I,”_

Omega turned to stare at him for a moment, surprised by his question. He blinked before nodding. “Of course. I mean, I would want my favourite customer safe at home as well.” he said with a smile. Papa in turn blushed slightly at his response, shuffling on his feet momentarily in a quirky embarassment.

Omega finished up doing what he needed, putting things away before tugging on the black leather jacket he'd worn every night. He loved how warm it was whenever he wore it, especially on chilly fall nights such as these. And, he must admit, enjoyed the coolness factor that came with. He stepped out from behind the bar, announcing that whomever was still there didn't have to go home but couldn't stay there, as he was finally closing for the night. A few grumbles and whines, but everyone complied. Laying down tips for the other workers that had served them before getting up and leaving. It wasn't Omega’s job to stick around and clean, as everyone in the bar had a system and certain job. None of the tips placed down were his anyways, so he didn't stay for those.

Omega put an arm over Papa’s shoulders, guiding him out the front doors of the bar. They were both met with warm air, but also a slight windchill that made Papa pull his coat around himself tighter.

“Fan! It cooled off quite a bit, didn't it?” he exclaimed before yawning shamelessly.

Omega, previously staring up at the black and orange hazy mix peppered with stars in the night sky, looked down at the smaller man with a smile. “Oh yeah, sure did. Heard it was gonna be even colder tomorrow.”

Papa whined at that, rousing a laugh from the bigger man. “Oh come on, Papa. I bet it won't be so bad.” Omega said, shaking his shoulder a little. He was being a little bold, being so carefree and flirtatious around the singer. Something he'd never done previously even though Papa did it to him plenty at the bar scene.

They walked down the sidewalk of the shimmering city, the lit streets almost devoid of any other signs of life. Like the scene had been taken right out of a sort of apocalyptic novel. Though all the buildings were intact and thankfully no zombies lumbered around stupidly. Omega tended to have quite the wandering imagination and when this thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help but smile.

Halfway through the walk, Papa’s band had trailed upwards to the arm Omega had around his shoulders, lacing fingers with his. It was a little movement, but Omega noticed and couldn't help but feel his cheeks light up pink. Quite the shy man, but he didn't protest. In fact, he preferred it.

They soon reached the apartment complex Papa resided in, much to their dismay. Though Papa led the other man up the green carpeted stairs, tugging on his hand until he reached the door of his own respective block. He stood in front of the worn wood, the number sixty-six etched into a plaque above his head. Ironically, Omega supposed, someone had scratched an extra six into the soft wood next to the plaque. Funny.

Papa looked down at Omega’s hands within his own, swinging them before looking up at him shyly. “I... thank you so much for escorting me. Nobody decided to uh, beat me up on the way home, I think a big guy like you has scared them all off.” He said, both laughing softly at the comment.

Omega bit his lip and opened his mouth to speak before Papa decided to blurt out.

“Would...you like to stay?”

Omega’s eyes widened. Oh how he admired the short man and his ways. Though here and now, he could tell he was a little flustered. He usually had charm and wit when he flirted, but here he was, a stuttering and blushing mess before him.

Though Omega allowed a sudden smile to spread across his face. “I don't think that'd be a very good idea. Don't get me wrong -- I'd _love_ to. But you have quite a bit of alcohol in your system and I feel that would be kind of...wrong.” he said. Papa stuck out his lower lip in a pouting kind of way before sighing and nodding. “Ah, you are right. A stupid question on my part.” Papa huffed before offering a smile himself.

Omega shook his head, about to speak before an idea suddenly came to mind.

“Here, give me your hand.”

Papa raised his brows before doing so, watching as Omega fished a pen out of his pocket. He gently held Papa’s hand as he scribbled something on the palm before clicking the end of the pen and shoving it back into the pocket from whence it came. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to one of Emertius’ flushed cheeks. “Maybe I can see you tomorrow? It's my day off, after all.”

With that, Omega waved and made his way down the stairs and out of the threshold of the apartment complex.

Papa leaned against the door, a hand over his heart as he remembered to breathe once again. He held up his hand to the dim light on the porch, squinting as he read.

It was Omega’s phone number, along with a little note.

“ _Meet me outside the bar at eleven tomorrow? Let me buy us ice cream? Best hangover snack, I promise.”_

Papa smiled, pressing his tongue between his teeth as he bit back a small squeak of happiness. In a room a few doors down came the muffled sounds of _Comfortably Numb._  What a way to set the mood and make this atmosphere so much better than it already was. He felt so lucky.


End file.
